In the still of the night
by candy-belle
Summary: They never talk about what they share at night. A little fic looking at the deep, intense, platonic relationship that exists in my head anyway between Natasha and Clint.


**Title:** In the still of the night  
**Rating:** PG  
**Summary:** They never talk about what they share at night  
**Featuring:** Natasha Romanoff(Black Widow), Clint Barton (Hawkeye),

**Warnings:** deep deep friendship, hinted-at-angst

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters of Marvel Movies. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended and no money is being made.  
**Notes:** As usual no idea where this came from but it's another look at the deep intense friendship that exists (in my mind at least) between Clint & Natasha. x Anyway, as always this is unbeta'd so any mistakes you find, please, please, please forgive (I mean it PLEASE!)

**On to the story…..**

Clint came awake the moment he heard the door to his room open. He didn't react though he stayed still, listening as the intruder slipped silently into the room. He tensed slightly, his training making him ready for any attack but a split second later he relaxed, the faintest of smile tugging at his lips as he realised who the intruder was. He started to count in his head, noting it took 5 seconds for the intruder to reach his bed, then a further 3 before he felt the mattress dip and the covers lift. He didn't bother hiding the shiver that ran along his spine as the cool air brushed over his exposed torso. There was a moment's hesitation then a warm body was sliding into the bed beside him.

A puff of air warmed him as the covers were replaced, enclosing them both in his surprisingly spacious bed. Without acknowledging the second person now filling his bed, Clint slowly rolled onto his side, offering his back to his new bedfellow. Just as he always did, whenever the nightmares drove them to seek him out. For a few moments there was no reaction, then slowly, his new bed mate turned and settled against him, spooning against his body as if they were designed to be one. His bed mate wriggled slightly, soft, cotton-covered flesh pressing against his exposed back, the warmth seeping into his body warming his soul and chasing away his own barely-suppressed fears.

He smiled against his pillow as a surprisingly delicate arm slipped over his waist, a small yet deadly hand coming to rest on his exposed stomach. He waited a few minutes before letting his hand slide into place over the soft skin warming his abs, his fingers slipping between the delicate digits. At first there was no response, then after a few moments he felt a gentle squeeze against his hand, a silent _thank you_ that made him smile even more.

They lay together in the darkness, both taking comfort from their strange yet very familiar embrace. They never embraced like lovers, never lay with one of their heads resting on the other's shoulder or chest – that was too intimate, too akin to something more romantic and if there was one thing they were it was unromantic. The embrace they shared had nothing to do with intimacy and everything to do with needing proof that they were both still alive, that once again they had managed to survive intact and in one piece. That the visions filling their heads were nothing more than nightmares, that they weren't real, not this time anyway.

Listening carefully he gave a little nod as he noted his bed mate's breathing shallow out and become the soft snuffles of someone finally able to sleep. Squeezing the hand that was still pressed against his stomach, he gave a little yawn and snuggled down deeper into the soft mattress. Nuzzling his head against his pillow he let out a soft sleepy sigh and, finally content that his bed mate was ok, he let himself fall back to sleep.

X o xo 0 xoxox 0

The next morning when Clint stumbled blearily into the kitchen Natasha was already there, sitting at the breakfast bar chatting quietly with Banner. She glanced up before nodding towards the fresh pot of coffee waiting for him. He patted her on the shoulder, grinning at the eye roll the move received, and padded over to claim the entire pot before Stark showed up.

He leant back against the counter and looked at her over the top of his mug. She looked better than she had previous evening, the shadows under her eyes had disappeared and that made him smile. He knew too his own face looked better for a proper night's sleep. He grinned as he lowered his mug and she caught him watching her. She held his gaze a moment, her face impassive and near impossible to read but then she gave him the briefest of real smiles. It was gone in a flash but it was enough. It was more than he ever needed to know that he helped make a difference.

He gave her a slight nod in return, a silent _you're welcome_. It was the closet they would ever come to acknowledging what they shared. They never really spoke about what often happened between them in the still of the night. They never mentioned the fact that knowing they had someone to hold onto when the nightmares become too much meant so much to them both yet they both knew. Instinctively they knew and for that they were both eternally, if silently, grateful.

FIN x


End file.
